The Princess of Hell
by LilyNevermore
Summary: My name is Ralissa and I am the daughter of Crowley. Yes, that's right, the King of Hell. I suppose that makes me a princess. Looks like Dean Winchester has the Mark of Cain... Who could've possibly seen that coming? From the time I met these famous hunters, I've been curious to find out more. Let's see where this takes me. CastielxOC pairing
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, so this was not the first chapter of this story, but I thought it would work better to start the story at this time in the show, instead of the original starting point. Anyway, if you're new to the story entirely, welcome and read on. If anybody is wondering about a face claim for Ralissa, I'd probably imagine her as Katie McGrath when she was a little younger, like when she was Morgana on Merlin. If you watch that show, you'll know what I'm talking about. If not, Google it. I hope that helps. Her picture is also the cover image, but that doesn't always work, so… Anyway, let's start the chapter!**

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Ralissa's POV:

"I asked for the reports yesterday. I should have had them yesterday!" I shouted.

The demon in front of me shrank back a little. "My apologies, Your Majesty, but-"

"No buts! Get me the reports, before I will lose my temper. Or do you want me to call my dog?"

"No, Your Majesty! I will get you the reports by tonight, I swear."

I smiled. "Was that so hard?"

The demon said nothing, unsure of what to do.

I rolled my eyes. "You can leave now."

He literally ran out of the room. Laughing to myself, I stood from my chair and walked out to the balcony, looking over the city. I love the Cleveland penthouse. It's nice to be in a place with windows instead of the palace in Hell. It can get a little stuffy in there sometimes. Back inside the room, my phone started to ring. Who could that be?

Slightly annoyed, I went back inside and looked at the phone. Crowley was the one calling. Interesting. After all this time, he's finally calling.

I picked up the phone at the last second. "Daddy?"

"Ralissa, how are you, darling? Handling hell alright, I hope?"

"Daddy, where have you been?" I asked.

"Locked in a basement," Crowley replied.

"What?"

"It doesn't matter now. Listen, I want you to meet someone. Two someones, actually."

"Oh? And who would those someones be?"

"The Winchesters."

I blinked several times. "Come again?"

"You heard me. The Winchesters."

"And why, pray tell, do you want me to meet the Winchesters? Wait, no, actually, why are you even with the Winchesters?"

"I'll explain later. Just get here, alright?"

I shrugged. "Fine."

"Hurry up."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course. Where are you, exactly?"

"The Men of Letters bunker."

"The what now?"

"You'll find me, or you'll find it. Just go with it."

"Fine. I'm hanging up now."

I did just that.

It didn't take me long to find Crowley. Within fifteen minutes, I appeared in a windowless room with a devil's trap on the floor and Crowley sitting in a chair behind a table while a man with short, light brown hair and green eyes unlocked the chains. An angel in a trench coat with bright blue eyes and dark hair stood slightly behind me.

I looked at my father with an eyebrow raised. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

"Long story, Darling," Crowley replied, stretching his neck.

"And who is this exactly?" the green-eyed one asked.

"Ah, yes, introductions. Squirrel, Cass, meet Ralissa, my daughter. Ralissa, meet Dean Winchester and Castiel."

I frowned. "I thought there were two Winchesters. Where's the other one? Because I'm pretty sure that it's not the blue-eyed angel over there, looking like a kitten in a trench coat."

Crowley chuckled. "Accurate description, Darling, but no, that is not Moose. Samantha is in a little bit of trouble, you see. And we are going to assist them in getting him back."

"Why?"

"Because our friends here, lack the knowledge to crack open an angel. And I wanted some fresh air."

"Crack open an angel?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Sounds fun. Okay, I'm in, as soon as feathers over there stops staring at me."

Dean looked in the direction of the angel. "Cass, hey!"

Castiel looked at him. "Sorry. I was just… thinking… about getting Sam back."

I smirked. "Great. So when are we leaving?"

"As soon as I can scrounge up a ride," Dean said.

"Well, I have a vehicle," Cass chimed in. "It stopped a few miles from here, inexplicably."

I was thoroughly annoyed that we had to walk to Castiel's car, but we got there soon enough. The car looked like something out of a ridiculous movie that takes place in the middle of New York City.

"Really?" Crowley said. "What are you, a pimp?"

"I like it," Castiel replied.

"It looks like a car that Azrael from Dogma would drive," I commented.

Castiel gave me a confused look.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, never mind."

Dean, who was holding a gas can, turned the key and listened to the sputtering engine. "Yeah, it's out of gas."

"Riddle me this, boy wonder," Crowley said. "Why do you need wheels?"

Castiel looked at him. "When you betray us, I'll be the one to carve out your heart."

"Oh, Cass, such a flirt."

I rolled my eyes and so did Dean.

"All right. Let's go," Dean said.

"Shotgun," Crowley said.

"Uh, wrong. You're in the back."

Cass gave him a smug smile and went to open the passenger side door, when Dean said, "Hey—You, too. Keep an eye on him."

I smiled at Cass and Crowley and stepped forward, slightly pushing Cass towards the door to the backseat. "Excuse me, Darling. I think that's my seat."

I climbed in the passenger side and Cass and Crowley climbed in the back.

"Watch the leg," Crowley snapped.

"You're on my side," Cass complained.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Dean yelled.

"Actual children," I muttered.

They shut up after that and Dean drove away.

Crowley directed Dean to this financial office, and we all sat crammed together on one white couch.

"Your source is in here?" Dean asked disbelievingly.

"And she can track anything you need, even our little lost Samantha," Crowley replied.

"How?" Cass said.

"Well, this place isn't really… this. It's a front for an N.S.A. listening post."

"Why are they listening for?" Dean asked.

"Everything. The U.S. government is quite the voyeur these days. So I planted one of my best and let her go to work."

"Looking for terrorists?" Cass said.

I rolled my eyes. "Looking for marks, feathers."

A security guard walked over. "Mr. Crowley? She's see you now."

The four of us all stood up, but the guard held up his hand. "Uh, just Mr. Crowley… and his daughter, if necessary."

"I'll be listening to every word you say," Cass warned.

I started to follow Crowley, but he put his hand on my shoulder. "Stay here this time, Ralissa."

I was taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Because I said so. Just trust me, and don't ask questions for once."

Crowley walked away. I huffed and sat back down. Cass and Dean sat back down on either side of me.

"You just got Dad-ed," Dean chuckled.

I scowled. "Be quiet."

"Okay, fine. Relax, Princess. How old are you, anyway?"

I gave him a look. "You're not supposed to ask a woman that question… But since there's nothing to do, I'm twenty."

"Actually twenty? Or died at twenty and you're stuck there?"

"I'm the same age I look, thank you."

Castiel wasn't paying attention to the conversation at all. He was listening in on whatever my father was talking about with this demon.

Dean glanced at him. "Hear anything?"

Castiel shook his head. "No. The room Crowley's in has been warded."

I scoffed. "I could've told you that. My father isn't stupid, and neither is the agent he's meeting with."

"Awesome. That's friggin' awesome," Dean muttered.

After a while, Crowley came back down the stairs, holding a piece of paper. Cass, Dean, and I stood as he reached us.

Crowley sighed and held up the paper to Dean. "Your phallus on wheels just ran a red light in Somerset, Pennsylvania, 10 minutes ago. Let's go." Crowley walked over to the door. "The three amigos ride again."

"He's not my amigo," Cass grumbled.

"And there's four of us," I added, annoyed.

We found the car by nightfall, parked in front of a house. Dean made Crowley and me stay in the car, while he and Cass went to go get Sam… And I was not happy about it.

"So, my contact tells me that hell is basically chaos. Is that true?" Crowley asked.

I shrugged. "Kind of. Depends on what demons, but the majority are being stubborn to say the least."

"Well, don't worry, Darling. We'll fix that as soon as we're done with this."

I scowled. "I'm not worried. I'm just annoyed. How long does it take to catch a rogue angel, anyway?"

Crowley glanced out the window. "About this long, apparently. Here they come."

I looked out the window. Sure enough, there was Dean and Cass, carrying a very tall man, who was obviously unconscious. That must be Sam.

Dean drove us all to some kind of abandoned warehouse place. Then he and Castiel strapped Sam to a chair, and Crowley sat in the chair opposite him. It didn't take long until Sam woke up.

"Welcome to the party, pal," Dean said. "Cass, how we lookin'?"

"Most of Sam's internal burns have healed," Cass replied. "I should be able to fix the rest. What's your name? I thought I knew every angel in heaven, but I've never seen you."

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot there was an angel in there too.

"Why would I tell you anything?" Sam said coldly.

Dean stepped forward. "Well, I don't give a damn who you are. You need to get out—Now!"

"And if I don't?"

"Then you and I will have a lovely little playdate," Crowley chimed in.

"Even bound, I can rip this body apart," Sam replied. "Tell them, Castiel."

"You do, you die," Dean warned.

"You want this to end? Go ahead. Put a blade through your brother's heart. If it makes you feel better, I have Sam locked away in a dream. As far as he knows, the two of you are working a case right now—something with ghouls and cheerleaders."

"Why is it always cheerleaders?" I muttered.

Dean shook his head. "Why are you doing this, huh? We fought together. And I trusted you. I thought you were one of the good guys!"

"I am doing what I have to do."

"Well, so am I." Dean nodded to Crowley.

Crowley picked up a piece of something like a needle and then looked at Sam. "So am I."

With that, Crowley shoved the needle into Sam's temple. Sam yelled in pain. I grimaced. Cass looked away. At some point, Dean walked into the other room and Cass followed. I walked after them, but at a distance, not wanting them to know I was there.

"Hey," Castiel said.

"I can't watch that anymore," Dean replied.

"I understand. It's not Sam, but… It's still Sam."

"Pretty much, yeah. How are you doing?"

"You want to talk about me now?"

"I want to talk about anything that's not a demon sticking needles into my brother's brain. Yeah, humor me, man. How you doing?"

"Uh… I'm okay."

"Good. Good. That's, uh… So, what, you just change the batteries out, power back up? It's that easy?"

Change the… What does that even mean?

"It wasn't easy, but I didn't have a choice," Castiel said.

"Yeah. Well, that's usually how it goes. Cass… I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"Kickin' you out of the bunker. That's, uh… You know, not telling you about Sam."

"You thought his life was at stake."

"Yeah, I got played."

"I thought I was saving Heaven. I got played, too."

"So you're sayin' we're both a couple of dumbasses?"

"I prefer the word 'trusting.' Less dumb. Less ass."

I laughed before I could stop myself. Cass and Dean looked in my general direction, but I knew they couldn't see me.

"Who's there?" Dean asked.

I stepped out of the shadows with an eyebrow raised. "'Who's there?' How many girls are in this place?"

"You were spying on us?"

"Not spying, just listening. You think I want to watch my father stick needles in the big one's brain all night?"

"'Course. It's not like you're a demon, or something. Wait…" Dean trailed off sarcastically.

I forced a cold smile.

"But she's not," Castiel said.

My head snapped in his direction. Castiel was watching me through narrowed eyes.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Castiel glanced at him. "She's—"

I poofed in front of Castiel and covered his mouth with my hand.

Whoa!" Dean said in surprise. I didn't pay him any attention. My eyes were on Castiel.

"Can I talk to you alone?" I asked, loud enough that only Castiel could hear me.

Castiel nodded and poofed us to the room upstairs. I pulled my hand back and stepped away.

"You know," was all I said.

"Know what?" Castiel asked.

I found myself struggling to actually say it. "You know I'm… You know I'm… Not a full demon."

Castiel nodded. "I can feel it. You're only half demon. Why did you stop me downstairs?"

"You were going to tell Dean. That can't happen. You can't tell anyone."

"Why? What's the problem?"

"I'm struggling as it is to keep Hell under control. They barely listen to me. If they knew I was half human… Not to mention the fact that if Abbadon knew, she'd realize how easy I'd be to kill. I'd be the ultimate leverage, more than I am now. Please, Castiel. Tell me you'll keep it to yourself."

Castiel stared at me for a long time, then nodded. "Alright…"

"I feel like there's something else. What is it?"

"It's just… that's not the way I'd expect Crowley's daughter to ask someone to keep a secret."

My stomach dropped. He's right. I wasn't even aware of how I was acting, I just panicked.

I cleared my throat and looked back at Castiel with a cold expression and my head held high. "Well, I assumed you'd pick up on the underlying message. Obviously, if you choose to be stupid and refuse to keep your mouth shut, I'll have no choice but to run you through. Be smart about this, Castiel. I'd prefer not to have to kill you."

Before Castiel had a chance to reply, Crowley's voice came from downstairs. "Laverne! Shirley! Get in here!"

"I think that's for you, Cassie. Mustn't keep Daddy waiting," I said.

I turned and walked down the stairs, knowing full well he'd follow.

Back downstairs, the angel was limp in his chair, unconscious. Thank God, he's not screaming anymore.

"Pinhead's out cold, but watch this," Crowley said. He pulled on one of the needles.

" _Zir noco iad Gadreel,"_ The unconscious angel muttered in Enochian .

"What's he saying?" Dean asked.

"His name. Gadreel," Castiel replied.

"Does that mean something to you?"

"Well, it's why I've never seen him. He's been imprisoned since the dawn of time."

"How fun," I commented.

Castiel ignored me. "Gadreel was the sentry who allowed Lucifer into the Garden."

"My, my. A celebrity," Crowley said.

"Wait, the Garden? Like Eden?" Dean asked. "Adam and Eve? Fig-leaves Garden?"

"It's his fault—all of it," Cass replied. "The corruption of man, demons, hell. God left because of him. The Archangels—the apocalypse. If he hadn't been so weak, none of it would have happened." Castiel stepped forward and grabbed Gadreel by the front of the shirt. "You ruined the universe, you damn son of a bitch!"

Dean grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Cass! Cass! Hey!"

"Dean, he—"

"I get it. But you got to chill."

Cass didn't reply, but he pulled his arm away from Dean.

"Hmm. It's always interesting what it takes to anger an angel," I commented. "You people get upset over the strangest things."

Castiel ignored me. Crowley went back to messing with the needles.

"What's taking so long?" Dean asked.

"Other than the fact that I'm trying to unravel a living, multidimensional know of pure energy, not much," Crowley replied.

Gadreel opened his eyes. "It won't work. You will never find your brother. Go ahead. Poke and prod. I can sit in this chair for years and watch you fail over and over again. I've endured much worse than this, Dean. So…much…worse. And I have all the time in the world."

"Shut up!" Dean yelled. "All right. Plan 'B.' Cas, you got to possess him."

"What?" Cass asked.

"Do it now! Get in there, tell Sam what's going on, and help him kick that lying son of a bitch out!"

"Don't be stupid," I snapped. "Angels can't possess a vessel without permission—" I glanced at Castiel briefly. "—Another thing demons can do that angels can't—Anyway, I doubt you can convince Eden's Protector to give him permission."

Crowley cleared his throat and raised his hand.

"No. Not happening," Dean snapped.

"Don't be daft," Crowley replied. "Like Ralissa said, demons can take what they want. I can burrow into that rat's nest of a head. I can wake Sam up. Just call me Plan 'C.'"

"You can't—" Castiel started.

"You got a better idea?" Dean cut him off. "What about the angel?"

"I'll work fast," Crowley replied.

"If he finds you?"

"I'll run. I'm not dying for you lot. Of course, if I do this, you're gonna have to… Take off the leash."

"Yeah, I know."

"And it stays off. I save Sam, I leave here a free man. Do we have a deal?"

Dean hesitated. "Cass, burn off Sam's tattoo."

"Dean…"

"Do it. Do it."

After a moment's hesitation, Castiel stepped forward, pulled Gadreel's shirt open a bit, so the anti-possession tattoo was visible, then placed his hand over it and burnt it off with his angelic, white light. When he removed his hand, it was gone. Castiel stepped back.

Dean looked at Crowley. "If you mess with Sam, if you try anything—"

"I keep my bargains," Crowley said. "Besides, I don't want to be inside your brother any longer than I have to. I'm not one for sloppy seconds."

I rolled my eyes as Crowley sat back down in front of Gadreel. Dean unlocked the chain around Crowley's neck.

"When you find him, say 'Poughkeepsie,'" Dean told him. "It's our go word. It means 'Drop everything and run.'"

"Why would you possibly use that as your go word? Is that even a real word?" I said. "Is that really the best you could come up with?"

Everybody ignored me. I'm used to that, but it gets annoying when nobody comments on my genius sarcasm.

"Fine," Crowley said. "While I'm gone, hands off the suit."

Gadreel leaned forward as best he could. "I will destroy you."

Crowley didn't move. "Eat me."

That's when the red smoke flew out of Crowley's mouth and into Gadreel's. Both of them slumped in their chairs, unconscious… Well, not unconscious, exactly, just…. You know what I mean.

Dean started walking around. "A demon and an angel walk into my brother. Sounds like a bad joke."

"Dean, if this doesn't work…" Castiel started.

"It'll work."

"Well, if it doesn't, you could always kill him and maybe he'll come back as a demon," I said.

They each gave me a look. Cass's was a warning look, Dean's was borderline murderous.

I placed my hand over my heart in mock guilt. "Deepest apologies. Did I say that too cheerfully? I'm just so curious what it would be like for a Winchester to be one of us. Considering you're both so… How do I put this? Unlucky? Cursed? Ooh! How about damned? Yes, let's go with damned. Although, wasn't the big one a demon already, at one point? What with the whole demon blood fiasco—"

Dean took a step towards me and I saw him start to pull the demon knife off of his belt, but Castiel grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

"Don't, Dean," Cass said. "Crowley is helping Sam. You can't kill his daughter."

"Well, then make her shut up. I've got enough to deal with," Dean snapped.

I barely heard him. My eyes were on Castiel. "I don't need your protection, feathers."

"Knowing what we both know, you might want to take it," Castiel replied.

I said nothing after that. Obviously, he's talking about my lack of being fully a demon. Even worse, he had a bit of a point… Damn it. Before I could come with something to say, white light flew out of Gadreel's mouth and disappeared, followed by Crowley's red smoke. He did it. Dean and Castiel ran to Sam's side as he slumped in his seat, untying him and pulling out the needles.

"Sam!" Dean said. "Cass?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking," Crowley snapped.

"Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked.

Sam looked up finally, looking confused. "Cass?

Then headlights appeared through the window and I could hear a car. Cass ran up the stairs and looked out the window.

"It's Abbadon," he said.

My stomach dropped.

"Go. Back door. I'll handle this," Crowley said.

"Oh, 'cause you're such a good guy?" Dean snapped.

"Right now, I'm the goodest guy you got."

"This don't make us square. I see you again—"

"I'm dead. Yes, I know. I love you, too."

"Nice meeting you, Green Eyes," I said. "Watch that brother of yours."

"Pleasure doing business with you boys, as always," Crowley added.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean all left. Crowley sat back down and I stood to the right of his chair, struggling to stay calm. The demon half of me was fine, but the human part was clawing its way up from wherever I shoved it down to, and causing fear in the pit of my stomach. I don't like it. The door opened at the top of the stairs and Abbadon walked in, followed by two of her minions.

"Hello, Darling," Crowley said.

"Crowley," Abbadon replied. "And that must be Ralissa. I've heard about you. Bring me their heads."

Abbadon's minions stopped at the middle of the stairs and glanced up at her, not wanting to proceed.

"See, that's the thing about demons," Crowley said. "They're only obedient to a point. Right. Let's have a chat."

"I'm not here to talk," Abbadon snapped.

"And I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to them, the average demon, because I feel their pain. It must have been difficult, with your loving king so cruelly taken from you. I imagine you felt all at sea. And then along came… the brute. She's strong… and a knight and immortal—at the moment. So I'm not surprised that some of my more idiotic subjects bought her line. But now? Good news, fellas." Crowley stood from his chair. "Daddy's home."

"Hell doesn't want you, Crowley," Abbadon said. "It's mine."

"Is it? Not what I hear. Not while I'm still kicking."

"Well, then, let's settle it. You and me. Right here. Winner takes the crown."

"See, that's your problem, love. You think this is a fight."

Abbadon laughed. "It's not?"

"It's a campaign. Hearts and minds, that's what's important. See, the demons have a choice—Take orders from the world's angriest ginger—And that's saying something—Or join my team, where everyone gets a say, a virgin, and all the entrails they can eat. So, think on this, lads. Spread the word—Vote Crowley."

Crowley put his hand on my shoulder, snapped his fingers, and we vanished.

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 **Alright, guys, that is it for this chapter. I hope that guys enjoyed it, and I'll be back soon. Bye guys, - Lily**


	2. Chapter 2

**And I'm back! Hi, guys, it's Lily, and this is Chapter 2 of The Princess of Hell. Let's skip the long intro and just start the chapter.**

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Ralissa's POV:

 _It's better if it's only two._ He says. _Hold down the fort._ He says. I leaned back in my armchair, seething. Father left to find Dean Winchester and go find the bloody First Blade and wouldn't let me come with. Hold down the fort? Hold down the fort?! I'm not a bloody child, Father! Why am I ranting in my brain to an empty room? We're better than this, aren't we, self? If we can't go on that mission, fine… I'll do something else than. I never got the chance to introduce myself to the younger Winchester. I think I'll go do that, if only to annoy someone else.

I stood from my chair and snapped my fingers, disappearing. I appeared at the top of the stairs in the Men of Letters Bunker. It stung a little to teleport in there, but I was human enough that the warding let me through.

I arrived in time to hear Sam say, "You're a terrible liar."

"That is not true," Cass replied indigently. "I once deceived and betrayed both you and your brother."

Hmm, did he? Oh, the purgatory thing… That kind of backfired, though. I think it did, anyway. I was in England at the time.

"Okay, that's not the point," Sam said. "Cass, what's wrong?"

"I noticed something. It's, uh… It's resonating inside you."

"What?"

"Something angelic."

"Okay, uh, what the hell does that mean?"

"Maybe we should call Dean."

"No. He wanted to go, and he's gone."

"Gone indeed," I said, making myself known.

They both whirled around to look up at me. Sam looked alarmed, Castiel looked slightly annoyed.

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"That's Ralissa," Cass answered before I could say anything. "She's Crowley's daughter."

"What?" Sam looked back at me. "How did you get in here? It's warded."

I began slowly walking down the stairs. "I have my ways. You know, I was part of the team that got Gadreel out of you, Sammy."

He started reaching for the gun on his belt.

I stopped at the middle of the stairs. "Don't be so hostile. I come in peace. Look, my father left me out of a mission and I was bored, so I thought I'd come introduce myself to Winchester Number Two. There's really no need for weapons."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "And this was the only thing you have to do?"

I scowled. "Running hell because your father is locked in a Men of Letters basement doesn't leave much time for a social life. It seems I walked into something. Gadreel's left an angelic stamp on Samantha? How… Intrusive."

"Tell me about it," Sam muttered. "So, let me get this straight. You're here because you… have nothing better to do?"

"Pretty much. I'm twenty, I get bored easily."

"Don't you have, like, demons to order around, or something?"

I sighed. "Demons are…. Annoying, boring, and… quite stupid, most of the time. I get sick of them, and they don't need a supervisor all the time. It looks like you've got this thing to figure out now, so… let me help. You've got…" I glanced around. "…quite the library in here."

"Are you sure your father would want you here?"

I glared at him. "I don't know, and I don't care. I'm not afraid of my father. Look, I won't do anything, I promise."

Sam looked at Cass, who neither moved, nor spoke for a good minute.

"Let her stay," Cass finally said. "It's two on one, and we've dealt with her father before. Maybe she can help."

I placed my hand over my heart. "Thank you, Feathers. I appreciate that."

Sam sighed and looked back at me. "One wrong move…"

I waved my hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, I'm dead. I get it."

"Let's get started then."

As I looked through books, I could almost feel Castiel watching me intently.

I smirked, but kept my eyes on my book. "If you're going to stare at me like that, at least buy me dinner first."

"I-I wasn't… I," Castiel stammered.

I laughed and turned around to face him. "Angels are so easy to fluster. It's the perfect combination of adorable and hilarious." I glanced back at the book. "I think I've found something. It's Enochian, which… Is not nearly my best language, but I think it's a detail about what angels leave their vessels…? Is Enochian always this flowery? Um… "And the departed shall remain, and the remains shall be departed." What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Okay, so, when an angel leaves a vessel, they leave behind a piece of themselves. Like, uh… Like an angelic fingerprint," Sam said.

"Alright, well, if I'm translating correctly, I think this piece of the departed contains grace. Care to have a look, Castiel?"

Cass took the book and looked at it. "Yes, I think she's right."

"Wait, you're saying there's angelic grace inside of me?" Sam asked.

"Yes." Castiel closed the book. "But it's fading each time I heal you."

"Okay. Is that good or bad?"

"Well, it's harmless. But the grace itself…. Might be helpful." Cass picked a Men of Letters file off the table. "According to this, we may be able to use the grace that remains inside you to track Gadreel… if we can extract it."

"How would we do that?"

"Well… painfully." He held up a picture of a rather large-looking syringe. "The Men of Letter believed that you could perform a tracking spell with extracted grace, but they were never able to test the theory."

"Well, they didn't have a guinea big, but we do."

"A rather tall one, at that," I added.

Castiel looked confused. "You have a tall guinea pig? Where?"

I frowned and glanced at Sam, slightly confused now. "Is he serious?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah. It's me, Cass. I'm the guinea pig."

Castiel nodded. "Oh." He looked at the picture of the syringe. "Any idea where that is?"

After another hour of searching through stuff upstairs, we finally found this syringe.

"Sam, may I ask you a question?" Castiel asked as we went back downstairs.

"You just did," Sam replied.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Well, technically, you—"

"Just ask the bloody question, Feathers!" I snapped, annoyed.

Castiel cleared his throat. "Sam, the trials. You chose not to go through with them for a reason, didn't you? You chose to live rather than to sacrifice yourself. You and Dean… chose each other."

"Yeah, I did. We did. And then… Dean made a choice for me." Sam walked into the down the steps and into the other room, with Cass and I following.

"What Dean did—"

"It doesn't matter what Dean did. Look, I could have put a stop to all this, Cass. I could have closed the Gates of Hell."

"Oh, Sam."

"Dean's gone, okay? This is on me now, and if I can find Gadreel… I can fix this. Now… being a human means settling your debts. Let's start balancing the books."

I glanced around the room. "On a completely unrelated note, this room looks like a cross between an abandoned hospital room, and a dentist. I'm guessing these Men of Letters didn't get out much."

"You're not wrong." Sam handed Castiel the box with the syringe and then sat down in the chair, leaning back.

Castiel took the syringe out of the box and slowly pushed the needle into Sam's neck, causing Sam to grunt in pain. I couldn't help cringing. I've always hated needles.

"Now comes the part that will actually hurt," Castiel said. "I'm gonna begin the extraction."

Cass pulled up on the plunger slowly, and glowing white grace started to flow into the syringe.

"Is it working?" Sam asked, wincing.

Castiel sighed. "Yeah."

"But?"

"I-I need to push the needle in deeper. We need more grace in order to cast the spell."

"Okay. Do it."

"Sam, if I get too close to—"

"Damn it, Cass! Just do it."

Castiel pushed the needle in a little deeper, causing Sam to start yelling in pain. Cass pulled out the needle completely and stepped back. Sam gasped and put his hand on his neck where the needle had on gone.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked.

"Your body is regressing to the state it was in before Gadreel," Castiel replied.

"Do we have enough grace for the summoning spell?"

"Sam."

"It's a simple question, Feathers. Stop stalling," I snapped. "Is that enough, or not?"

Castiel glanced at the syringe. "No."

Sam took a deep breath. "Then keep going."

Castiel hesitated, but pushed the needle back into Sam's neck. Barely more than a minute after Castiel started the extraction again, Sam's head fell to the side and his eyes started to shut.

"Sam? Sam?!" Castiel said in alarm.

Sam opened his eyes a little. "Keep going." He sounded very weak.

"Why?" I asked.

"We—we—we have to find Gadreel."

"Yes, I understand that, but it's not worth you bloody dying over it."

Castiel shook his head. "No. Why must the Winchesters run toward death?"

"Good question," I muttered.

He started to pull out the needle, but Sam grabbed his wrist. "No, don't. Don't. Don't stop."

"Sam, when I was human, I died, and that showed me that life is precious, and it must be protected at all costs, even a life as… as pig-headed as a Winchester's."

Sam took a deep breath. "My life's not worth any more than anyone else's—Not yours or Dean's… Or Kevin's."

Alright, I'm about to do something extremely out-of-character. "Nobody's saying that it is… Every life is equal, which means that it's also not fair for you to run towards death because you feel guilty for Kevin's. However…" I looked at Castiel. "You don't have the right to stop him, either. I think Sam's had enough of other people making decisions about his life for him. Human's feel the need to make things right, right? You have to let him do that." My voice was monotone and devoid of any emotion, but I made my point.

Sam caught my eye and nodded as best he could. "Keep going."

After a moment's hesitation, Castiel pushed the needle in deeper and Sam started screaming, which continued until his nose began to bleed and he seemed to lose the strength to scream. His breathing became weak, as well. I started to wonder if this was going to kill him. Cass glanced past me at something I couldn't see and then pulled out the needle.

"Hold on," he told Sam. "This may pinch."

"Cass, what the hell?" Sam asked.

Castiel didn't reply. He simply placed his hand on Sam's head and healed him.

"Cass," Sam protested, sitting up. "What the hell was that?!"

"I've healed your wounds completely," Castiel replied.

"Yes, because we all thought you'd only partially healed him," I said sarcastically.

"And the grace?" Sam asked.

"Well, whatever grace was inside you is gone now," Cass told him. "What's left of Gadreel is in here. We'll just have to try the spell with what we have."

"Damn it."

"Sam, I want Gadreel to pay as much as you do. But nothing is worth losing you. You know, being human, it didn't just change my view of food. It changed my view of you. I mean, I can relate now to how you feel."

"What are you talking about?"

"The only person who has screwed things up more consistently than you… is me. And now I know what that guilt feels like. And I know what it… I know what it means to feel sorry, Sam. I am sorry."

"I know."

"You know, old me—I would have just kept going. I would've jammed that needle in deeper until you died because the ends always justified the means. But what I went through—Well, that PB and J taught me that angels can change, so…" He picked up the box with the needle in it. "…Maybe Winchesters can, too." With that, he walked out of the room.

I cleared my throat, awkwardly glancing at Sam. "Well, as the apparently least human person in this room, I find this kind of thing uncomfortable, so I'm just gonna…" I turned to leave.

"Hold it," Sam said.

I turned. "Yes?"

"What you said before, was… probably the least demon thing I've ever heard. So, how does that work?"

I shrugged. "I don't know… I just thought of the cheesiest thing that came to mind. Humans always seem to like that stuff. Is there a problem?"

"No… I've just never heard your father say something like that. Well, except for… Never mind."

I smirked. "I am my own person, Mr. Winchester. I'm not a female carbon-copy of my father… Believe me."

I walked out after Castiel.

I stood back slightly from the other two as they mixed the ingredients for the angel tracking spell. Castiel poured in the grace, which was the last ingredient, and glowing gray smoke started to spiral out of the bowl before fading and disappearing.

"Well, that was anti-climactic," I commented, crossing my arms.

"Was that, uh… was that it?" Sam asked.

"I'm afraid there wasn't enough grace," Cass replied. "We'll have to find Gadreel another way. I'm sorry, Sam."

"It's all right, Cass. You, uh… You were right. You were right about everything."

With that, Sam reached over and hugged Castiel, who just kind of awkwardly stood there. I tried my best to hold in my laughter.

"Now's the part where you hug back," Sam said.

"Oh. Right. Uh, sorry." Cass awkwardly hugged Sam back.

"There you go."

When that happened, I couldn't hold in my laughter anymore. I only managed to get a hold of myself after they pulled away from the hug.

"As far as I'm concerned, Metatron is the key to fixing everything that's wrong," Cass said. "I'm gonna find him."

I looked back and forth between the two. "How do more people not ship you two? I mean, everything ships Feathers with Dean, but…"

Sam looked at me. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I used to read the books when I was under. You know, the ones by… What was it? Carver Edlund?"

"Ship?"

"It's a shortened version of relationship. Teenagers come up with the dumbest things."

Sam's face was priceless. "Aren't—aren't you a teenager?"

I glared. "I'm twenty, Skyscraper."

Castiel, who had been about to leave, turned back. "You know, Sam, we could use all the help we could get to find Gadreel and Metatron."

"We got this," Sam replied. After a minute, Sam turned to me. "What about you?"

I frowned. "What about me?"

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in helping with this?"

I eyed him. "I thought I wasn't trustworthy."

"But you're not exactly untrustworthy either."

"What about my father?"

"Crowley's stabbed us in the back several times over the years, but you haven't done anything. And you were helpful tonight."

"Hmm…" I smiled. "Well, I'll have to check my busy schedule, but… I'll see what I can do. I should be going. I have to get back before Father does. Until next time." I snapped my fingers and disappeared.

* * *

 **Alright, guys, that is it for Chapter 2 of the Princess of Hell reboot. I hope that you guys enjoyed it and please leave a review and tell me what you thought. In the words of Ralissa… Until next time, - Lily**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so we're splitting this episode into two chapters, because it would take me forever to update, otherwise. I'm not happy with this chapter, to be completely honest with you. It's not one of my best. But it's been a while since I've updated this story, so I wanted to give you a chapter, at least. I'm kind of having writer's block with my Supernatural stories... Expect slow updates... I'm sorry.**

 **Hope: I'm glad you like it!**

 **theRedzak: Well, I'm happy you like how it's written... Took me seventy years to get around to editing it, but I'm glad it's better now and that you like it :)**

* * *

Ralissa's POV:

"I don't think you're listening to me. I am not asking for guesses, I want answers. Where the hell is my father?!" I shouted.

The demon in front of me took a step back, nearly shaking in her boots. "I don't know, Your Majesty. The last time anyone heard, he was somewhere in the Western Pacific."

I sat back, fuming. "Yes, you said that already. If you want to be helpful, stop telling me things that I already know—"

The door burst open and another demon ran in. "Your Majesty!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Jenkins, what is it?"

"Nicole's been summoned by the Winchesters! They're probably gonna kill her!"

I blinked. "Nicole the crossroads demon? Snooki? How do you even know tha—Damn it, Jenkins, how many times have I told you to stop following Nicole? It's weird. Winchesters… Hmm… I suppose they're probably looking for Daddy too." I rose from my chair. "Fine, I'll deal with them myself. Go away, both of you. You annoy me."

They both vanished. I snapped my fingers and vanished as well.

I appeared next to a Devil's Trap, which Nicole was standing in, along with both Winchester brothers. Sam had just begun the exorcism spell.

I pressed my thumb and forefinger together, taking away Sam's voice. "Mm-mm. I don't think so. I'm struggling with my kingdom as it is, I don't need you people exorcising all of my demons." I scratched a gap in the Devil's Trap with my heel. "Go away, Nicole." She promptly disappeared.

"Ralissa, what the hell?" Sam asked, once I gave him his voice back.

Dean gave him a look. "'Ralissa'? You're on a first-name basis now?"

I crossed my arms and smirked. "Oh, yes, Dean, Samantha and I go way back. But I didn't realize you two were speaking again."

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's complicated. Why are you here?"

"You're summoning crossroads demons, which means that either one of you is dead, or you need information. Now, since you're both standing in front of me, looking tall as ever, I'd guess you're looking for information. And I'd guess again that you're looking for my father, since he was looking for the First Blade. Am I warm?"

Sam blinked. "You're… spot-on, actually."

I smiled. "Thought so."

"Do you know where he is?" Dean asked.

"No. I've been shouting at scouts all day, because no one can find him. I've heard nothing in weeks. Abbadon is probably planning to make her move any day now, I don't have time to search for missing kings."

"Do you have a point?"

I rolled my eyes. "Must I spell everything out for you people? My point is that since we're both looking for the same person, we might as well work together."

Sam looked at Dean. "She has a point."

Dean pulled him aside. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

They walked away from me a ways, but I could still hear them. Heightened senses are a good thing, people.

"You do realize that's Crowley's daughter, right?" Dean hissed. "We can't trust her."

"I'm not saying that we can," Sam replied. "But she knows Crowley better than anyone. If anyone can help us find him, she probably can."

"Yeah, but—"

"Trust me. She can help."

They turned back around. I raised my eyebrows and smiled. "Go team."

Back at the Bunker, the fact that I can get through the warding certainly didn't make Dean trust me any more. Not that I care. He can have whatever suspicions he wants, but I don't have time to worry about being liked. I frowned at the laptop over Sam's shoulder, as Dean walked back into the room. Searching the Mariana Trench won't help, I'm sure of it. Father's somewhere off the radar.

"So… Cain said the First Blade was tossed in the deepest ocean, right?" Sam said. "That's the Mariana Trench. Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross."

I rolled my eyes. "If that was true, I wouldn't be here."

"Yeah, that doesn't make sense," Dean agreed. "He wants me to power it up and kill the ginger. He set it up."

I frowned. "Set what up?"

Dean looked at me. "He didn't tell you?"

"He's missing, you idiot. What don't I know about?"

Instead of responding, Dean rolled up his shirt sleeve and I saw the Mark of Cain branded into his skin.

I actually took a step back, eyes going wide. "That—that's the bloody Mark of Cain."

"Wow." Dean glanced at Sam. "She is a mini-Crowley."

I glared at the hunter. "Why do you have the Mark of Cain?"

"Because it was the only way to be able to use the blade."

"Are you telling me that you actually met Cain? Like, the real Cain?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised Crowley didn't tell you."

My glare intensified. "I repeat: he's missing."

"Maybe you should be wondering what else he's keeping from you."

"Okay. A-assuming he does show up with it, Crowley is only useful to us until we have the blade," Sam said, trying to turn us back to the task at hand.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "So?"

"So… There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right?"

"Nothing at all."

I looked from one brother to the other, trying to wrap my brain around their idiocy. "Um, hello?! There is something standing in your way, and she's standing right over here."

"There's nothing stopping us from using it on you either," Dean snapped.

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Bitch, please. You couldn't get within eight feet of me before you'd be dead."

Before he could reply, Dean's phone rang. "Speak of the devil." He answered it. "Did you find the first blade?"

"Not exactly," Crowley's voice replied.

"Well, then, what, exactly?"

"I'm in… a jam of sorts. Thought you might help."

What has he got himself into now?

When you're used to teleporting, a car ride is tedious at best, but we ended up at a hotel in Colorado. Colorado? Really? He was here the whole time? Doing what?

In any case, the Wonder Twins and I found Crowley's empty room easily enough. Oh, there's a dead body on the floor—Wait, make that two, and one of them is a demon… Why am I not surprised? Anyway, we waited there until the door finally opened and my father walked in with a paper bag in his hand. He didn't look good.

"Hello, Boys. Hello, Darling," Crowley said.

"Hello, Daddy," I replied flatly.

"And what do you call this?" Dean asked, gesturing to the dead human body.

"Refreshments?" Crowley replied.

Sam stood up. "What's in the bag, Crowley?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Maybe I can, uh…" Sam grabbed the bag and opened it, pulling out a bag of blood. "What, are you knocking over blood banks?"

I frowned, confused. What would he want blood for? The boys sat Crowley down in a chair and promptly handcuffed him to it.

"Look at you," Dean said. "You're a mess. You know, we were counting on you. You let us down."

"Not to mention the fact that you've been doing God knows what, whilst your kingdom falls to shambles," I added.

"Yeah, your slimy followers were counting on you to kill Abbadon, and you let _them_ down," Sam agreed.

I looked at him. "Hey!"

"I didn't mean you," he replied quickly.

"You better not have. For your sake."

Dean shook his head. "The man with all the mojo—Captain Evil."

"Oh, that's pathetic," Sam added.

"What is this?" Crowley asked, holding up his handcuffed wrist. "An intervention?"

"You need to focus, Crowley," Sam told him. "Get a grip!"

"What, you just gonna let hell go to hell?" Dean demanded. "The kid can't do it on her own."

I'll get him for that.

"You don't know what it's like to be human!" Crowley yelled.

That surprised even me. What does he think he's talking about? I've been working my entire life to not be what it is to be human. What does he know about being human?

"It's your DNA," Crowley continued. "It's my addiction, my cross, my burden!"

"All right, take it easy," Dean said.

"I see the darkness of it now, the Anthony Weiner of it. It makes you needy." He glanced at the dead demon girl on the floor. "I needed her. Lola used me. She reported everything I did back to Abbadon."

"Crowley…" Sam spoke very slowly. "Did you tell her about the First Blade?"

"I don't know. Things get a trifle blurry when I'm medicated."

"Medi—Am I missing something? What the hell is he talking about?" I demanded.

Sam glanced at me. "You don't know?"

"Would I be asking about it, if I knew?"

Sam looked away from me and back at Crowley. "He's been injecting himself with human blood."

I froze, looking from Sam to Crowley. " _What?_ "

Crowley avoided my gaze, eyes on the floor. I suppose I should've known… He'd never act like this otherwise… He'd never avoid my gaze like this either. I know I can't be this upset… I mean, not for the real reason why I'm this upset. You've been telling me to suppress every human part of me my entire life, and then you turn around and get addicted to demon blood _because you wanted to feel the very emotions you've been forcing me to suppress?!_ The lights flickered. I forced myself to remain quiet. If I start, I won't be able to stop, and I'll probably reveal my secret. The angel already knows, these idiots don't need to as well.

Sam stood up and faced Dean. "If he told Lola, she definitely told Abaddon."

"Which means that Abaddon's on the hunt for this thing, too. All right, you know what? This crap ends now," Dean said, glancing down at Crowley. "You're cut off. Okay? Kicking it. Cold turkey."

Normally, I would've had a problem with the Wonder Twins locking Crowley back in their basement… But today? Right now? I was more than all for it. I didn't even care to be down there with Sam and Crowley. Instead, I trailed around the main floor of the Bunker, trying hard to not either punch something, or make it explode. My magic can be a bit unpredictable when I'm angry. When my mother died, I cause quite the little earthquake. Mother… She wasn't killed by a demon or anything, just boring old tuberculosis. If she'd lived, I never would've had to do this… Oh, this is useless. She's dead, and she's been dead for years, and there's nothing to be done about it. I am who I am. I'm Ralissa Evelyn North, heir to the throne of Hell… And I am _not_ human.

So, we're now waiting in a park to meet with someone, who, apparently, won the First Blade in a Moroccan poker game… I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention when Sam told me. I glanced to my left and noticed my father stealing candy from a vending machine… Oh, for the love of God.

"What is Crowley doing?" Sam asked.

I sighed. "Stealing candy."

"He is—he's—he's stealing candy."

"…Yep."

"You know, at least when Cass was human, he was an okay guy," Dean said. "Should've known Crowley would be a douche version."

I laughed. "Tell me about it." I looked in Crowley's direction. "Father! Get a hold of yourself! Image, for God's sake. You're not a child."

Slowly, Crowley removed his arm from the vending machine and walked off to another bench.

"You really think this guy's gonna show up?" Dean asked. "I mean, this isn't exactly a place where million-dollar deals go down."

"Look, word is, this Andre Develin character bought the blade from the pirates, and he's been shopping it around. That's all I know," Sam replied.

"Hey, heads up."

I looked up as a man emerged from the shadows and approached us. Sam stood from the bench and joined Dean. I rose as well, standing slightly behind them.

"Mr. Develin, we spoke on the phone," Sam said.

Mr. Develin looked him up and down. "You said you represent a serious collector with an interest in a private transaction."

"Did he?" Dean asked. "Oh. Well, what he meant to say was, is that we are with…" He pulled out his badge. "…The FBI."

"Then good evening." He started to turn away.

"Wait a second," Sam insisted. "We just want some answers."

"Read Sartre. Jean-Paul Sartre. I'm merely a facilitator between the buyer and the seller—a conduit. So, unless I'm being detained—"

He was cut off by Crowley's red smoke flying into his mouth. Yeah, that works too. Mr. Develin's eyes turned red for a moment before the smoke flew back out and Crowley returned to his body.

Mr. Develin shook his head a little. "So, am I? Being detained?"

"Not at the…. Moment," Dean replied awkwardly. "No, but we've got our eyes on you."

When Mr. Develin was out of sight, the three of us turned to Crowley.

"National Institute of Antiquities," Crowley said, right on que.

Well, this should be fun…


End file.
